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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28065522">The Discourse of Affection</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrepuscularPetrichor/pseuds/CrepuscularPetrichor'>CrepuscularPetrichor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Turn (TV 2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Baking, Christmas Decorations, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Food, Holidays, Kissing, M/M, Mistletoe, Sledding, Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:49:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,200</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28065522</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrepuscularPetrichor/pseuds/CrepuscularPetrichor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A story comprised of drabbles (exactly 100 words) for 12 Days of Turn 2020</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Caleb Brewster/Benjamin Tallmadge</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>12 Days of Turn 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Candy Cane</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ben held his tie against his chest as he sat down at his desk. He did a double take at an unfamiliar white mug, imprinted with a Christmas tree. The mug held fresh coffee- a quality blend, from the smell- and, hooked around the rim, a peppermint candy cane. The red and white stripes melted tantalizingly into the hot drink. A gift? Ben frowned. From who? He looked around, but Abby was absorbed in her computer across the aisle, and Rob hadn’t come to work. He glared at the mug suspiciously, sorely tempted by the aroma. He took a sip.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Cookies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were cookies in the break room that afternoon. Ben chose a chocolate chip that had been half dipped in a dark chocolate shell. They were evidently homemade, and delectable.<br/>
“What do you think?”<br/>
Ben turned, mouth full of cookie. It was Caleb, who worked in sales. He wore a grin the way a man married 40 years wore his wedding ring.<br/>
“Mmmmh,” Ben answered, trying to chew and feeling a flush run up his nape.<br/>
“That good, eh? A compliment to the chef.” Caleb, who Ben knew well enough to chat with, winked. “It’ll be good with your coffee.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Eggnog</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Caleb nudged Ben’s shoulder that evening at the office Christmas party. He proffered a plastic glass of eggnog, sprinkled delicately with nutmeg. Ben took it, glancing from Caleb to the cup. <br/>“Is this the second drink I have you to thank for today?” <br/>Caleb was seldom parted from his grin, and tonight was no exception. “Sly as a whip, aren’t you?” <br/>Ben couldn’t help but smile a little in return. “Thank you.” He raised the glass in a mock toast. <br/>Instead of the cold and creamy mouthful he was expecting, the nog shot down his gullet, warm and wicked. <i> Spiked. </i></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Festival</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The party was a Festival of Trees, all decorated differently. As Ben walked by each one, Caleb walked in stride beside him. <br/>“Which style do you like?” <br/>Ben’s eyes roamed from tree to tree, searching for defining features that stood out. When he looked back, he found Caleb’s eyes on him. The eggnog gurgled in his stomach and he felt warm. <br/>“They’re much the same, aren’t they?” he opined, wondering if Caleb would agree or contradict him. He’d always seemed the contradictory sort. <br/>“Yeah.” Caleb shrugged. “Not much to look at… maybe we could go somewhere more interesting?” <br/> Ben nodded.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Gifts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“One stop to make first.” Caleb nudged Ben towards the edge of the room, where there was a table lined with shiny silver and gold bags.<br/>
Caleb looked around furtively, and raised a finger to his lips.<br/>
Ben shook his head, but he was trying not to chuckle. The gifts were there for the employees to take. But Caleb snatched one, lightning fast, then took Ben’s hand and whisked him through the door, half running. It was stupid, but a laugh was spilling out of his lungs and his heart was racing like they’d just gotten away with something naughty.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Mistletoe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Anything good in there?” Ben asked, breathing hard as they sheltered in a doorway, illuminated by the floodlight over the parking lot. Thick, slow flakes of snow fluttered in and out of the fluorescent glow. <br/>Caleb rifled through the gift bag, tossing out a piece of tissue paper. Ben bent to pick it up. When he straightened, Caleb was holding a twig curiously above his head. <br/>“I don’t think HR approved these.” <br/>There was enough light to outline the telltale white berries. Enough to see Caleb’s eyes sparkle. Ben didn’t give it much thought, just leaned down and kissed him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Sled</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ben was already cold as he stepped out of his car at the top of Pigpen Hill. A thin break in the trees offered a view across the river valley. It was pastoral, quaint, with red barns and small clusters of houses breaking up a blank sheet of white snow.<br/>
“Benny!” Caleb called from the window of his truck as he parked. Ben smiled and wandered toward him.<br/>
“What are we— oh, no.” Ben shook his head, seeing the purple plastic sled in the truck’s bed.<br/>
“Oh, yes!”<br/>
“We will die.”<br/>
“I’m very good at steering.” Caleb winked.<br/>
“I don’t-”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Snow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sled shuddered down the hill, sliding between leafless deciduous trees and under the low branches of evergreens. <br/>Ben squeezed his arms more firmly around Caleb’s midsection. His face was pressed into the fur-lined hood of Caleb’s jacket, and his smell permeated the crevices of Ben’s brain. <br/>He squinted into the distant doom and cursed himself for giving in so easily to the power of suggestion and a nice smile. His stomach clenched. His thighs clenched. <br/>They hit a rock off-kilter, and flew into the air. Ben landed face-first in a drift of snow. <br/>“Whooo!” Caleb shouted, “Let’s go again!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Tinsel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ben fluffed a wad of tinsel and strung it along a branch of Caleb’s tree. Though it was only four o’clock, the sky already grew dim. His socks and sweater were hung over the radiator.  <br/>Caleb came out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. <br/>“You sure you don’t want a shower? Warm you right up.” <br/>Ben would’ve killed for a hot shower, but since yesterday- just yesterday- he felt like he’d been dragged along behind a spirited horse. Things were moving too fast. <br/>Instead he smiled, and spread a few strands of silver tinsel over Caleb’s hair.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Decoration</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the tinsel came a string of Christmas lights, looped around and around, followed by an ornament hung through Caleb’s hitherto unsuspected pierced earlobe. He looked like a disheveled Christmas tree, forgotten about until mid-March. Ben couldn’t stop his grin, his laugh at Caleb’s small encouragements and goadings. <br/>“Oy, I think you’ve missed a spot.” <br/>Ben looked him over, unconvinced. <br/>“You’ve just gotta come a bit closer, just a bit…” As Ben leaned forward, Caleb leaned in too and kissed him softly. “Mmmh. Just there.” <br/>He was warm, and Ben melted into him like a candy cane in hot coffee.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Epilogue part 1: Gingerbread</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do you want to help me make some gingerbread men?” Caleb asked.<br/>
“What?”<br/>
He shrugged. “You seemed to like the cookies I brought to work.”<br/>
Ben was flabbergasted. “You made those?”<br/>
Caleb grinned, picking a piece of tinsel from his hair.<br/>
They rolled out chilled dough, and Caleb pulled a fistful of cookie cutters from a drawer.<br/>
“A dinosaur?” Ben inquired, picking one up. “A flamingo?”<br/>
“More fun that way.”<br/>
It was fun, cutting cookies from the spicy sweet dough. Caleb cut with surprising concentration and precision, and Ben surprised himself by making the dino appear to devour the flamingo.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Epilogue part 2: Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the oven dinged, a classic lobster claw mitt was donned and the tray of cookies was removed in a billowing cloud of heat. Out of Caleb’s cabinets appeared icing, sprinkles, miniature m&amp;m’s. <br/>As Ben smeared green icing across the dinosaur from face to tail, Caleb drew dots and pressed m&amp;m’s into eyes and buttons on more traditionally shaped cookies. He looked wistful as he worked, creating a family of men made from gingerbread. Ben was half in love with him already.<br/>He nudged Caleb’s shoulder and, with a grin, streaked a dollop of icing across his nose.</p>
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